Glamorous
by thefastlane
Summary: He wished he had the courage to tell her. Oh, if only he knew, he already had… JM [oneshot][1 of 1]


**GLAMOROUS**

_type: one-shot._

_pairings: j/m_

_synopsis: he wished he had the courage to tell her. oh, if only he knew, he already had…_

_inspiration: loosely. "glamorous" by fergie. i know, i know…but it's more in an ironic, wistful way._

_reviews: much appreciated._

_disclaimer: own nothing and nobody, blah blah blah. work of FICTION, peeps._

_rating: T, borderline M_

_a/n: new to the hannah montana section, if you guys like you'll definitely be seeing more from me. for now, this is a one-shot, but maybe it you guys really like it, it'll become something more. we'll see; let me know!_

………………………………………………………………………

"Well, MK's good, she's back at NYU, actually. Me? I'm just prepping myself for the launch of the new line." Ashley Olsen took a small sip of her nearly-full apple martini in one hand, beaming a little bit. She was speaking a little loud, necessary at the packed party. "Which reminds me, you've _got_ to stop by my apartment sometime…Lagerfeld did these t-shirts for it, they're _heaven_. Things are gonna be a fortune, but I took out a bunch for my favorite ladies."

I grinned at her. I _love_ free stuff. "Thanks, love. I definite…" my voice trailed off.

My eyes shot up, over Ashley's shoulder, adjusting to the dim light of the lounge until they could finally make out…whoa.

The hair was still shaggy, still long, the eyes a piercing blue even in the light. Posture exuded confidence. He looked relaxed in a vintage D&G t-shirt and True Religion jeans. The facial features were more prominent. Defined. Masculine. And so was the body.

I took a huge gulp of my champagne.

Ashley turned her head quickly to see why my face had suddenly frozen, words stopped mid-story. Immediately she lit up. "Jakey!"

"Ash! Look at these gorgeous ladies," he greeted warmly, throwing his hands out to hug her.

"I haven't seen you since that awful party at Paris's. Ugh." She rushed over to kiss him on the cheek, holding her glass out so as not to spill. "How have you been, sweetie?"

"I'm great," he declared, then turned to me. I forced a smile. "And you, Hannah, I haven't seen you since the Zombie Slayer days! My manager has been trying to set up a lunch or something, but no luck. Where ya been?!" He leaned in and kissed my cheek softly.

Truth? I had been busy being Miley Cyrus, hibernating while I tried to finish high school. But he didn't know that. "Oh, you know, just a little hiatus. But lunch sounds great. I'm surprised you even remember those guest spots, bud."

Don't get me wrong. I was glad to see him, I was. But it had been a few years. I'd seen him on television and in movies and pretty much everywhere, but we hadn't been in the same place at the same time since I was a kid. Since he left Malibu to do that movie.

"How could I forget Hannah Montana! You're in every magazine these days. And looks like we're about to be reunited."

"You got the part in _Clean_!" Ashley squealed. He nodded and wiggled his eyebrows. She giggled. "I read that book. You guys are gonna have some _sex-ay_ scenes."

Oh boy. I finished my champagne in another huge gulp.

"Why don't both of you stop by tomorrow…" Something caught her eye and she paused. "Oo, MK decided to show up. Catch up later!" She kissed us both and headed off in a hurry. I shook my head fondly and smiled.

So it was just me and Jake Ryan. Well, not technically…I mean, the club was packed. _Clean._ As in the ironically titled movie I was about to start filming in a few weeks, in my first serious role as the promiscuous wife involved in an _intense_ sexual affair. I knew he was in the running for the part, but I was under the impression he wasn't getting it.

At that moment, Petey, the owner of the place and a good friend, came out and escorted a few people into the VIP room. He motioned towards Jake and I, but I shook my head and Jake hung back, next to me. Paris Hilton walked out of the room, rubbing her nose and giggling with two gorgeous males. Girl might be crazy, but she hadn't aged a day or changed a bit.

"You know I was actually gonna get out of her pretty soon…any chance you want to come?" He raised an eyebrow at me. "I mean, we're going to be spending a few months together in England, so it'd be great to catch up with an old friend somewhere quiet."

Of course not. I had come with my girl friends, who were, well, doing cocaine in the back room, but whatever. I always had fun at these parties. I wasn't just going to leave. He had left me, left Malibu, and never called to let me know he was leaving. Oh wait, no. That was Miley. I was Hannah Montana now. Hannah had no reason to be mad at Jake. Jake and Hannah were friends, never anything more. God, even after years of a double life, this was all so confusing. I was getting upset and confusing things and thinking as Miley. Oh, what the hell!_ You're an actress, Miles. Do Hannah_.

I grabbed his arm and grinned at him mischievously. "What do you say you buy me a drink first?"

…………………………………………………

It was 2:30 A.M. People were started to look sluggish, some passing out. Some girl fell off the bar. In and out of the VIP room came giggly girls and men. I was once the wholesome teen idol Hannah Montana. The two girls making out with the sleazy looking promoter in the corner was not wholesome. The secret drug-fest in the back was not wholesome. This was the secret world we lived in.

Jake and I had wound up at the bar. We were both just a little more than tipsy, spilling out details of our lives, bonding like old buddies. As we were escorted out of the bar by a group of extremely large bodyguards, paparazzi surrounded us, and for the first time I didn't care about the flashing white lights going off in my face.

"These fucking paparazzi, Jakey. We're famous. La-a!" I sang, spinning around as I exited the club. Jake caught me, and I giggled. He laughed. My rep had shown up at the club and sighed. "Hannah, tone it down," she advised me in my ear.

They would write awful things about me. They would call me an alcoholic, the Lindsay-Lohanesque stories would start up. The price of fame. "Is it true you're fucking Jake Ryan?" an obnoxious voice called out from the crowd.

"Jake, what's the new movie called?" another voice chimed in. "Can we get a picture?"

"Hannah, are your tits real?"

The bodyguards were getting pissed. I don't know what happened next, because we were escorted into a limo.

The luxuries, the tabloids, the alcohol, the drugs, the clubs, the rumors, the lies. I was nineteen, and I had it all. The glamorous life.

We were laughing, sitting across from one another. "Home, Paco," Jake told his driver, and started to put up the divider, but I stopped him.

"Could you find the nearest Taco Bell?"

Jake grinned at me. "_Now_ you are officially my kind of girl," he joked.

…………………………………………………

We headed up to Jake's apartment in the Village, still giddy, still rambling stories a mile a minute, holding three full bags from Taco Bell. We were mobbed at Taco Bell, bodyguard-free. I snapped at quite a few people. Why couldn't we just _blend_? I had been spending more and more time as Hannah lately, what which promotional stuff for the new album, and the new movie.

"Impressive, Mr. Ryan," I mused, nodding in approval as I scanned the apartment. There was a long hallway with six doors on the right and a series of paintings all along the left, that led to an open living room, divided from the kitchen by a bar.

"Just moved in."

I kicked off my Louboutins. "Mm," I murmured, plopping onto his oversize leather sofa. I wasn't tired, but the buttery leather felt so soft on my bare legs and back.

He closed his eyes and sat beside me. "What gives with the greasy food cravings, Montana?" He had a half-smile on his face.

"I'm nineteen and I'm gonna eat Taco Bell, _Jake Ryan_, 'cause that's what nineteen year olds do!" I protested. I've been to every high-class restaurant in New York. I just wanted out for a minute. Jake…he reminded me of something I'd been lacking – the real world. Outside of this glossy world we graced.

My buzz was wearing off.

He laughed. "Yeah, that's why most nineteen year olds are college girls with cellulite and nonexistent abs."

I gave him a half-smile and raised my eyebrows at him. "Who says I don't have either of those?"

He winked at me in a friendly way. "Oh, don't even act like you don't know I saw the Maxim photoshoot. Wait here."

I snorted and hurled a pillow at him as he disappeared behind the bar. He emerged moments later with a bottle of Dom Perignon. I burst out laughing. "Classy."

Jake pretended to be offended, but couldn't hold in his laughter long enough. "As long as we're having Taco Bell, we have to do it right. We get to do…whatever. We. Want."

He started pulling glasses out of the cabinets, and poured for both of us. "You know," he teased, "I think you should bring back those purple lips back from Zombie Slayer. You know, for our love scenes. I think it'd really help me get in the mood."

"Oh, please, you ass. _Dude, I slayed you once!_" I threw my arms in the air, mocking him. "That may have been your greatest role to date."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up, Miley," he mumbled, blushing a little.

The feeling from four years ago rushed over me. He was so cute. _Shit! Why did he just call me Miley?_

"Uh. Who?"

"What?" he looked confused. "Nobody, you just made me think of…nevermind."

I got up to help him pull all the food out of the bags, and then took a seat at one of the barstools. He sat next to me.

I grabbed the first thing I saw, a plain taco. "Mm…" I murmured as I took a bite. "I haven't had this in years. Tabloids would be all over it. Ugh…those people tonight, I can just imagine tomorrow's Page Six: Hannah Montana is the biggest _bitch_ alive."

Jake laughed, unwrapping a burrito. "You learn how to deal, I guess. I have to. The last time I was out of the spotlight I was six. My first movie, after that my life turned crazy. But I guess you could Google pretty much anything about me." There was a note of wistfulness in his voice. He looked at me straight in the eye and held the gaze, appearing to be thinking hard."You…there's hardly anything out there about you. I mean, mostly just gossip stuff, but your interviews and stuff, you're so private. My manager said it's like you disappear for these longs periods of time, sorta."

I took a sip out of my glass and started on my second taco. "I guess it's just how I am." Oh boy. The answer didn't seem to satisfy him. I shifted uneasily in my seat. "Which means pretty much everything they say isn't true? Like those pictures two weeks ago of me and Ashton? We've never even met. Photoshopped, I have the originals of each picture. _Separate._"

I swallowed another bite. "Besides, I don't date celebrities. I almost did once, but he…well, nevermind."

He seemed so spaced-out; he didn't even notice my slip-up. "It's hard to date celebrities. I've been linked with a lot but they usually just have the wrong motives, they want to be with you for all the wrong reasons."

He continued, staring at his burrito. "I wish I had known about keeping private when I was young. I went to a public school for a few months, in Malibu, when I was fourteen or fifteen. I don't know why, but something about hanging out with you reminds me of that place." A little smile crossed his face.

I was careful about my next words. "Why so sad?"

He sighed, and proclaimed matter-of-factly, "Only time I ever had my heart broken."

My heart started to pound. "Oh please, you, with a broken heart?"

He sipped his champagne slowly, then laughed. "I'm probably only telling you 'cause I got a little buzz, and cause you kinda remind me of her. Actually, you look a little like her too. Miley, was her name, I accidentally called you that before. Drove me crazy that she wasn't crazy over me. Fell so hard for that girl."

I was so surprised at how open he was being. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was something else, but for some reason I put my taco down, reached over, and lightly placed my hand over his. He didn't move it away, just glanced at our hands and then his eye returned to mine. I found myself saying, "What was so special about her? I mean, I heard you've turned down everyone from Scarlett Johanssen to Eva Longoria."

He shook his head. "You get used to that. She was so cute, pretty girl, all natural. Really put me in my place, grounded me, you know?"

"Yeah. My dad always kept me grounded; I know how important that is." I was trying to play it cool but suddenly I was a fifteen-year-old girl again who had a crush on a boy and just found out he thought she was cute. Complete with butterflies and everything.

"Lucky girl. Seems he did a good job on you...welll anyway, I let her get away, anyway."

I was very intrigued. "Why?"

"There's just a point where a guy's gotta give up, you know? Heartbreaker, that girl. She was on and off, hot and cold. Last time I saw her she pushed me off a fence, long story, but I guess I kinda deserved it. And after that, I just told myself I couldn't deal with anymore rejection. Especially when I figured out I was in love with her." _What!?!_ He looked so sad, and then suddenly his face changed, like he'd realized he'd blurted out more than he meant to. "Sorry, you just remind me of her so much and I wish I could tell her now...uh. You want some water? I need some water. I'm gonna go get that."

He stood up. My mind was racing. After all these years, I thought he'd done me wrong. And it was me. All along, breaking _his _heart. _Tell him don't tell him this is your cover Miley you can't blow Hannah sure he doesn't feel the same it's been years but he might and you never got over him because you let him get away and now he's back and here and sweet and beautiful and how could I hate this guy beside me who had cared for me all these years and…_

_Stop._ I was thinking too much. "It's weird, you know. I used to get mixed signals from the celebrity I almost dated. I was so afraid to care about him, because I didn't see why he'd ever want to be with a 'normal' girl."

He laughed and turned to look at me, but then looked confused. "Normal?"

"Um." _Busted_. I started racking my brain for a good cover; I always had a few rehearsed for any slip-ups. "I…" I began.

Then this weird thing happened. This girl, who wasn't me, stood up and caught Jake's wrist. He stopped in his tracks to look. And then that girl found herself saying, "You called me Miley earlier, and I didn't stop you. Know why?"

His narrowed his eyes and locked mine intently. No anger, no emotion, just this blue _intensity_.

In this kind of crazy rush of a moment the girl who wasn't me threw all caution to the wind and pried off her blonde wig, tossing it behind her. "Because it's my name. My real name. Miley. Stewart."

A bewildered look crossed Jake's face. "Um."

_Oh, shit_. _Oh, God. What did I just do?_ "Shit. Shit!" I cursed aloud. Miley was back.

"Whoa." Jake crossed over to the couch and sat, holding his head in his hands. "Give me a second."

"It was a cover, I've used it so I could have a normal life and I'm sorry I lied, and I'm sorry about the fence and pretending to be somebody else but I had to, and you must hate me now 'cause you told me that stuff, and I've been lying my whole life but it was for my own good, and I have always, always, thought you were the jerk but maybe it was because you were always the guy I couldn't get out of my head and I always wondered what could've been and you were so out of my league with all these actress girlfriends and…" I trailed off when I saw Jake started to lift his head from his hands, looking to me, a knowing smile crossing his face. "Whoa, there partner. Slow down. Come sit," he motioned.

He took my hand. And I felt it. As his fingers slipped through mine, I felt it. That thing we had that was always there, it never went away. We were the most ourselves together and there was no need to vocally express that. It finally made sense.

"You know…" Jake began.

I looked at him earnestly. "Yeah?"

"When I was fifteen, I thought Hannah Montana was out of my league," he stated, voice utterly serious and flat.

Moments later, we both began to laugh. Nervously at first, then that progressed to full-on laughter, the kind that makes your eyes tear and stomach hurt, and we were laughing so hard that I rolled off the couch, never letting go of his hand and pulling him down with me. He pinned me down to the floor by my wrists and suddenly nothing was funny anymore. He locked my eyes, holding that intent gaze on mine, I forgot about my blown Hannah Montana cover and girls doing coke in the bathroom and the clubs and the drinks and the tabloids and how badly I had been hurt by fame but how exciting it was and I just for a moment, was Miley, in love with a guy named Jake who knew what it was like to want what was real. My breathe stopped, because I knew what was going to happen, as he swept down and brought his lips to mine in a moment that was years of furious, pent-up longing. And it's a good thing we were already on the floor because we would have fallen off anyway.

The glamorous life was hardly what is was cracked up to, but let me tell you, kissing Jake Ryan most certainly was.

…………………………………………………

_We flying the first class_

_Up in the sky_

_Poppin' champagne_

_Livin' the life_

_In the fast lane_

_And I won't change_

_For the glamorous_,

_THE GLAMOROUS LIFE._


End file.
